


Between Your Game, Was Ours

by bluechaostamer



Series: A Game on the Side [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 21:16:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12920415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluechaostamer/pseuds/bluechaostamer
Summary: Sherlock and Moriarty contemplate over their subordinates. The story has two timelines. The dialogue and theorizing of the two geniuses and the actual events leading up to the PLAY NICE WHEN I'M GONE.





	Between Your Game, Was Ours

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to introduce a bit of background for Moran and Moriarty. Also to get more of a feel for Sebastian’s character (or at least how I’d picture him). I imagine Sebastian Moran to be a gruff opposite of the clean and pristine Moriarty. He’s quiet man of few words, he’s got a cockney accent, and is roughly as tall as Sherlock. If you’re interested in my visual representation, check out my deviantart.

He was the silent and cold-hearted sniper that stood by Moriarty. Rumor had it that Moriarty himself snipped off the man’s tongue for saying the wrong thing. Another voiced that he had been neutered, the moral-less man had tried killing him and he now bows before the feet of Moriarty. More rumors yet stated that Moran was biding his time until he would finally kill Moriarty in his sleep and take over the web. Others thought he was the REAL web.

The one that was voiced out the most was simply that they were both casually dating. Moriarty as the polygamous type and Moran ever loyal to his lover.

“Oh, this one is good. My favorite one so far,” Moriarty chuckled. Both men were sitting, and Moriarty had his back against the blond’s while scrolling through his phone. He was chewing gum between the dialogue, “Moriarty is probably romantically entangled with Moran. He’s likely the only man Jim would ever let top him.’ That’s a nasty thing to say. I’m not stingy about who I let top me. I actually bottom most times. What strokes your fancy?”

“Neither. ‘Cause ‘m not gay,” Sebastian murmured in his thick cockney accent. He clenched his cigarette between this teeth, aiming his sniper in position.

“Sebby, you denying the rumors will only make them think they’re true,” Moriarty commented, starting to type away several messages, “pretty basic knowledge if you ask me,”

“And agreeing to them ISN’T going to bring that mindset?,” Moran shook his head, adjusting his sniper, “Jesus, I’ve got no idea where how you get into ANY of their gossip columns,” The hit man patiently watched for his target to step out of the building. 

Both men were outside, on the roof of a building. Jim would have chosen a different location, but Moran had insisted this was the best location. That, and he wanted to have time out in the fresh air. 

“I don’t kiss and tell; they’d find out I read this if I do,” he tilted his head up to address his sniper, “besides, rest assured that they’re right. If you’d ever feel compelled to experiment, I’d let you top me, honey.” 

“Not compelled,” the sniper commented through his drag. Moriarty pouted. He pulled the gum out of his mouth and reached back to pressed it on the back of Sebastian’s neck.

“Cock,” Sebastian grunted.

“Would you like one?” 

“Got my own, thanks.”

Moriarty didn’t glance back, typing several responses at once, “I don’t mind if you get the urge to cope a feel on mine, sweetheart.” Sebastian rolled his eyes, still keeping a hand ready on the trigger and his eye locked onto the scope. 

“I prefer cunts,” Moran responded with a huff.

“You prefer them, but it’s not an exclusive preference,” Moriarty retorted distractedly, reading through data on his phone.

“We’re not about to have a discussion about my sexual preferences,” the sniper sighed.

“Then what will we talk about? I’m bored, Seb~,” Jim whined, lightly bumping the back of his head against Moran’s, “Give me another gum. I need to clench my teeth into something.”

The sniper took a long drag and blew out through his nose, “shouldn’t have stuck the damn thing on the back of my neck in the first place.”

“Why question anything I do, Seb?”

“Because you love the ego boost, Jim.” 

Moriarty feigned a shy smile, glancing back at him, “daw, you are so adorable. Anyhow,” Moriarty playfully pitched his voice down an octave, “I think someone forgot the request I made.”

He glanced in his scope. His target could step out any minute. He could have to chase down his target if he missed this shot, and he had no such intentions to roof hop when he had such a clean shot available. 

“My shot,” Moran stated as his explanation, but he knew that never saved him from troubles. Moriarty himself made no indication to reply, and simply continued to type away on his phone. Sebastian glanced at the heavens, before quickly pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, “Oops,” he muttered, darting his eyes back up at his scope and then reaching his other pocket to pull out a pack of gum. He jabbed the silver piece toward Moriarty, just in time to see his target stepping out and onto the streets.

“Wrapper,” Jim called out, earning him a curse from Moran, who quickly unwrapped the gum and leveled it toward Moriarty. The consulting criminal gentle grasped it between his lips, and finished his text message.

Sebastian clutched his weapon and aimed at his target. He steadied his hand and began to tighten his finger on the trigger-

“Oh, by the way, don’t shoot him,” Moriarty ordered, casually waving his hand. Moran sharply tilted the sniper upward in a 45 degree angle and the bullet fired over the buildings. He shot four more in agitation, letting out a string of profanities.

“’Don’t shoot him’?!,” he mimicked, ““Were you going to tell me before or after the bullet was through his head?! It took me a week to track this wanker down, and a whole three  MONTHS to find an ideal spot to shot him from!” 

“Whoa, calm down tiger,” Moriarty raising his brows.

“what the bloody hell am I sitting up here for, then?” Moran muttered, tugging off the piece of gum off the back of his neck and tossing it to the ground.

Jim reached his hand back to pat Sebastian’s cheek, “You need the last minute pressures.”

“Spare the excuses. What saved this bloke?” Moran asked, aggressively tugging the case for his sniper closer. He then took in a long drag and releasing it through his nose.

“Security,” Moriarty replied, standing up as he clicked away on the phone, “Not enough for a one of your episodes, then?”

Moran frowned, unlatching his case, “Security? Isn’t that why I’m nicking him from a distance?” he began to look around, wondering if he somehow missed people keeping an eye on them, “And no, it takes a lot more for me to fall into one of those nowadays,” he leaned closer to Jim, in case he needed to block a shot.

Jim snorted, pushing him back lightly, “Seb, I love when you try to get involved with my work, but don’t overcomplicate things. He’s security officer for a museum.”

The blond moved away from the consulting criminal, tossed his cigarette bud to the side, his voice thick with sarcasm, “That’s all it takes? Being cultured?”

“Don’t be bitter,” the consulting criminal teased, “you’re just trigger happy.” The phone in his hand began to jingle, and he rolled his eyes, “answer this call, will you? Your voice is much more intimidating than mine.”

The brunette tossed his cellphone to Moran, who caught it smoothly and answered it, “Best to text.”

The voice on the other end sounded confused, “I uh, wanted to make sure that-“

“ _ text _ ,” he repeated gruffly before quickly ended the call.

“Oh that was rude, very rude,” Moriarty commented, shaking his head. He darted his eyes back and forth and whispered in a conspirator manner, “what if he had something important to say?”

“Then you’d have answered,” the sniper answered simply, returning the phone back to Moriarty. He finished putting away his weapon and hefted it over his shoulder, “Done?”

Jim slowly walked to the edge of the building, “Nearly,” he murmured, tapping the phone against his lips as he watched the former target walk off, “Just one quick email.”

“Fabulous. ’m off to the pub,” Moran stated anticlimactically, trudging forward.

Moriarty pouted, “If you truly need a sexual outlet, why not come to bed with me?”

Moran turned, “Who says I’m-“

The consulting rose a brow.

Sebastian adjusted his jaw, “Jesus, no privacy with your kind of friendship,” he muttered.

“How easily you forget surprises, me, really,” Moriarty replied, approaching the sniper and placing his chin on the other man’s shoulder, “so what do you say?”

Moran cocked his head to the side, away from Jim, then held up one index finger, “not gay,” he lifted a second, “I don’t mess around with immediate coworkers,” then a third finger rose, “you don’t sleep.”

A wink was thrown back at him in response, “Well sleep defeats the purpose of what we’d be doing, hun.”

“I’m sure you’d get harder flipping the safety off a gun than giving out a hand job,” Moran commented.

Moriarty curled his arms around the taller man’s shoulders and smiled broadly, “you know me so well.”


End file.
